


1D Christmas ficlets

by mistresscurvy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas Ficlets, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistresscurvy/pseuds/mistresscurvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some Christmas ficlets from a <a href="http://mistresscurvy.tumblr.com/post/68992460599/holiday-fic-tropes">holiday fic meme challenge</a> on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nick/Harry, accidental mistletoe feelings!

**Author's Note:**

> So I had originally planned on writing many more of these, but then December happened and it's a miracle I'm managing to post these two here at all. Any additional prompts fills I succeed at doing between now and Twelfth Night will be added to this work. ♥

The bell to his flat went off when Nick was approximately ninety percent ready for the evening. It was difficult to know what to wear when all the information he could get from Harry was, “I have an idea,” and that was that. If he were a better sort of person, he would be able to actually demand details and specifics from a nineteen year old before agreeing to a plan, but here he was. Besides, he usually liked Harry’s ideas, even when they were terrible. Maybe especially when they were terrible.

Puppy was going mad at the door by the time he made his way out there, absolutely certain that there was someone in possession of food for her out there. Nick nudged her aside to open the door for Harry, but by the time Harry stepped inside she was already pouncing at his feet and ankles. How she managed to become convinced that people were hiding food for her in their boots he didn’t know, but nothing would persuade her otherwise at this point.

He was so busy attempting to save Harry’s only pair of intact boots from her attack that it took him a moment to notice what else Harry was wearing. There was something odd perched atop Harry’s head, which wasn’t that rare an occurrence these days, but he’d never seen this particular fashion monstrosity before. He peered at it harder, wondering if he’d spiked his own tea earlier in the evening and forgotten about it already. “Is that—”

"It’s a mistletoe hat," Harry answered, shaking his head a little so that the bell attached to the bit of garden that Harry was wearing as an accessory gave a cheery tinkle. "Niall bought it for me."

"Naturally," Nick said slowly, eyes still transfixed by it. It was quite a lovely arrangement, really, a sprig of holly setting off the mistletoe, but that was hardly the point. "And your plan is, what, to wear it out and about in London and cause a minor riot?"

"Hey," Harry said.

"Right, of course, nothing minor at all about the riot a kiss-giving pop star would cause. Is this the label’s idea, then? One more holiday push for the album? You should tell them it’s doing quite well already, no need to sacrifice one of you to the Christmas gods to reach platinum." Nick was aware that he was babbling, but usually by this point in one of his rambles Harry would already be laughing, dimples out in full force.

Instead he was frowning and looking at Nick like he was the one wearing a houseplant. “I wasn’t really expecting to go outside in it, Nick. I only just put it on.”

"That stuff’s poisonous, you know," Nick said quickly.

Usually Harry was able to follow all of Nick’s mental jumps, but judging by his face Nick was off on his own this time. “I wasn’t planning on eating it?” Harry said finally, a hint of a question in his voice.

"Well, take care you don’t, it’s awfully close to your mouth," Nick pressed on.

"Christ, Louis’s always telling me how thick you are and now I half believe him," Harry said.

"Hey, no need for that," Nick said, a bit stung.

"If you’d just give us a kiss I wouldn’t need to call you thick," Harry said. He continued on while Nick’s brain yelled utter gibberish at him. "Obey the Christmas tradition and I can take this off and spare us both the risk of poisoning and death."

"That sounds sensible," Nick said weakly, his eyes fixed on Harry’s mouth. He glanced back up at Harry’s eyes for a moment, half expecting him to say, _I’m only joking_ and pull off the hat and tell Nick what the real plan for the evening is. But Harry was just staring at him, looking a little nervous, not at all like his usual confident self.

It was Harry’s uncertainty that made him do it, in the end. If it would make Harry happy to continue this joke, Nick could survive it, he was sure. So he swallowed his own nerves and leaned in, ready to lay a smack of a kiss on Harry’s lips and carry on as if nothing had happened. 

He hadn’t anticipated the little hitch of his own heart when Harry met him halfway, the soft press of Harry’s lips on his. Stepping away would have been impossible even if Harry’s hands weren’t both clutching at Nick’s t-shirt, holding him there. It’s pure instinct to shift his head to his right just a little, to open his mouth into the next kiss, and with a little moan Harry slips his tongue into Nick’s mouth and he’s lost completely, clutching Harry’s face in his hands and kissing him over and over.

It was a mad stumble back into his bedroom, Nick pulling off Harry’s own personal Christmas tree topper and tossing it on top of a bookcase on the way. Nick was still just barely aware enough of anything other than Harry’s body pressed up against his to prevent Puppy from getting into the mistletoe. He mentally congratulated himself on being an excellent pet owner and then Harry’s hands were undoing his jeans and he forgot everything else.

Some time later, with Harry curled up naked against his side, Nick’s heart still pounding and sweat cooling on his bare skin, Nick let himself grin. “Very clever, young Harry,” he said, kissing the top of Harry’s head before remembering the former presence of a poisonous plant there. That would be a headline. Oh, well.

He was distracted from writing out his own obituary— _Grimshaw died tragically and far too young, but he died as he had lived, with full abandon and in the arms of a painfully attractive man_ —by Harry biting his shoulder. “I had thought about tying it to my belt instead, but Liam convinced me that wasn’t very romantic.”

"No," Nick said in agreement. "Were you going for romance, then? I thought this was just a nice casual shag," he said, barely getting out half of it before dissolving into giggles, and that was before Harry walloped him in the face with a pillow.


	2. Liam/Louis, Getting snowed in (possibly with no power!) and CUDDLING FOR WARMTH!

"That’s it, Liam, we’re snowed in. Can’t possibly risk going out in that, not even for more sweets."

Liam turned away from Louis and looked out the window, where big fluffy flakes were lazily floating down, the grass barely covered with a first layer of snow. “It’s Sunday, most of the shops are probably closed by now anyway,” he said finally. At least he thought that might be true, all the way out here in the country. He couldn’t even recall seeing many shops on the drive up, which was the whole point, Louis had said: a bit of a break from the rest of the world. But at the moment, his main concern was figuring out the game Louis was playing, since as of yet Liam was utterly unclear as to the rules. Louis would explain it all soon enough though, he was positive of that.

"And it’s a good thing too, be terrible to keep people away from home with a storm like that raging," Louis said. There was a weak gust of wind that made the snow whirl outside for a brief moment before it settled back down. "And now it’s picking up even more. Best hope we don’t lose power."

"That seems like a real risk," Liam agreed, peering out the window. It wasn’t yet full dark, so he could still see the snow coming down, even without street lamps lighting the way. He gave a little shiver, a bit chilly all of a sudden even in his jumper and with the fire already going in the fireplace.

"Come on, under the blankets with you, if you’re already cold," Louis said, manhandling Liam over to the sofa and shoving him down into the corner. There was an afghan draped on the top of the sofa that Louis pulled over himself and Liam as he curled up more or less on Liam’s lap. "Conserving body heat is important in these situations."

"So you do remember something from Scouts," Liam said, inexplicably proud of this display of self-preservation from Louis (even if Liam wasn’t sure this really counted as an emergency, strictly speaking).

"I remember the important bits," Louis said. Liam decided not to remind him who actually got the fire they were currently sat in front of going. He was too busy thinking about how nice it felt to have Louis all snug up against him, safe and secure.

The wind blew hard against the window, and Louis burrowed in closer against Liam, his head tucked under Liam’s chin. Liam wrapped his arms around him tighter. “Might get a bit boring if we do lose power,” Liam joked weakly. “No video games or telly or anything.”

He felt Louis’s exhale against his throat, the brush of his hair on his neck. “I can entertain you,” Louis said, muffled against Liam’s skin. Before Liam could figure out what to say to that, Louis managed to twist around in his arms, hands gentle on Liam’s face as he pulled him close for a kiss.

It was the most natural feeling thing in the world, Louis holding him still while he took what he wanted from Liam, their mouths fitting together as easily as everything else they did now. And then between one kiss and the next it stopped feeling quite so easy and started feeling urgent, the slide of their tongues together, the feel of Louis’s teeth sharp on his lower lip lighting Liam up from inside.

The heat from the blanket and the fire and the still fully operational boiler was stifling now, but Liam couldn’t be bothered to let go of Louis, one hand gripping the back of his neck, the other drifting down over Louis’s arse. The howl of the wind wasn’t enough to make him stop, nor the rattle of the window frames. Everything in their tiny cocoon was secure, and that was all that mattered.

Louis was the one to finally pull away a bit, Liam attempting to follow his mouth but held in place by Louis’s hands against his chest. He blinked up at Louis, the room already dimmer, the fire providing the only light now.

Louis’s cheeks were a bit pink, his mouth already dark and flushed from kissing, and Liam wanted to tug him back down. His intention must have been clear on his face, because Louis cleared his throat and put his finger over Liam’s mouth. “We should make some hot chocolate now before it gets too cold to get out from under the blanket.”

Liam kissed the pad of Louis’s finger. “With a nip of whiskey, too?” Liam asked, recalling the bottles of Jameson he’d seen Louis stow in the boot of the car.

"Only way to do it when you’re snowed in," Louis agreed, pulling his hand away and leaning in for another kiss. The hot chocolate could wait after all, it seemed.


End file.
